


Cricket

by artemisdaye



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, M/M, Paris (City), Pining, pre gol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 16:03:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17921990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artemisdaye/pseuds/artemisdaye
Summary: Yue leaves New York for Paris,New York which claims Eijis soul for its own.Yue won’t make the same mistakes as Ash,But he understands.





	Cricket

**Author's Note:**

> I’m not really certain where this came from. It made me sad. It’s indulgent. I just find myself imagining sad, war-worn Yue desperately trying not to reach out. And it’s always Eiji there staring back at him. 
> 
> It wouldn’t be healthy, it would always be sharp and tinged with poison. 
> 
> Anyways, My beta is a little busy this month, so have this instead of Terminal! Yell at me in the comments section please! Or on Twitter.
> 
> -Artemis

Blanca had been the one to suggest Paris. 

The death of Ash. His fault. Pulsing through the cities veins. 

Blanca had been back by his side within hours of the news. 

They left and Yue never looked back. 

It was never the same of course. It wasn’t over, it could never be over. But suddenly the stakes were more real. It wasn’t his fault that Ash was dead. And yet… 

He adjusted to his new life in Paris. Blanca led him towards a less aggressive way to exist in the violent legacy that was left for him. That he’d created. 

Time moved forward without Ash and yet Ash was always there.

The guilt was a vice. The alcohol stupors inelegant. Too dangerous now that the haze of blood frenzy had passed. 

Blanca left once he stopped indulging so much. 

Yue let Paris redefine him. Let the swirling city shape him into something new. 

Nothing like those few months in New York. 

No ties to distract him. 

 

——- 

 

Duality is.. the horror of addressing your guilt versus the absolute need to never seem compromised. 

Yut Lung has to feel. He has to face his emotions in order to never repeat the mistakes of his past. His mask won’t ever reveal this budding softness.

The people that knew him in Manhattan see it as a cold maturity. Unflappable starkness. 

Yue knows it’s all he can do not to crack. 

Ash showed him the consequences of letting the mask slip. 

His fault. 

Shorters death had been the breaking point. 

He’d done that. 

Delivered that man to his death. 

Ash had clung to Eiji, and Yue clung to the horror of it all. 

Ash fell in love and let the whole world know. He’d given in to love, died in love. 

Yue understood Ash when he was nineteen. 

 

 

It started with a phone call. Sing again. Always checking in. Always worried. 

It was a secret between them. A dangerous tie that Yue couldn’t keep- but couldn’t let go. The distance between them the excuse he needed to stay latched to his first and only friend. 

Sing was harried. Rushed, not making any sense. 

“ It’s Eiji.” He tried to explain, “ he’s inconsolable, he’s been so sick and he keeps asking for you.” 

It was a moment and then the full force of the words plummeted Yut Lung into uncertain despair. 

Eiji was untouchable. The grief of Eiji, of what he’d done to Eiji… 

“ I think he wants to hear your voice.” Sings voice lilting at the end. An uncertain tenor, approaching from the background. Whispers and a hiccup, Yues breath caught when a soft voice came through the line. 

“ Yut Lung?” The voice was broken, “ are you alright?” 

It was the shock and confusion of it all that had him answering back so delicately. Yue was certain he’d never been so careful with his words in his life. He looked at his situation, a shady bar filled with criminals and perverts. 

“ I’m out to dinner with some friends. The food was subpar, but nothing too terrible. I chipped my nail. I’ll survive.” 

The voice sighed and then broke down into sobs. 

Sing took back the phone, sobs sounding distant while Sings voice filtered down the line. 

“ Thank you.” 

“ Of course.” 

The phone went dead. 

At the time it hadn’t made any sense, at the time it had cost him. Emotionally. 

A thousand possibilities for the phone call bled into those bitter memories he was always so tempted to drown away. 

But that’s where it began. 

 

 

Months passed before the sentiment came into focus. 

Sing called. Yue answered. 

They were coming to Paris. 

It wasn’t an exciting place to meet. Somewhere simple with a courtyard to enjoy the fresh Spring air. Sing greeted him by the bar, a long hug. Too tight. Hard to keep up his mask.

Sing, always understanding, handed him a glass and looked out towards the garden. Little fairy lights hung overhead and through the trees. Rocks to cover the earth; crunching as people filtered in and out. Eiji sat at a lone table towards the back. Shaded by the bows of a tree, haloed by the lights above and beneath him. 

“ I’ll be here if you need me.” 

It’s not what he’d expected, but Eiji drew him outside easily. 

Curious to take in this newer, older Eiji. 

Still so recognizable. Smaller. Fainter under a large cardigan and the round glasses perched on his nose. Yues heart sunk as he took in the man he’d hated so completely. 

He’d taken so much from Eiji. 

Dark eye bags, thin wrists, sallow skin. His fault. 

Eiji lifted a glass to his lips and the cardigan slipped from his shoulder. Sharp collar bones exposed, pink lips dampened. 

Yue was sick to his stomach. 

He knew what was happening and it could not be happening. 

To Eiji, he should be a night terror. The shadow that feeds your insomnia. A flicker in the corner of your eye that makes your heart lose rhythm in your chest. 

And yet. 

Eiji smiled. When their eyes met. It was small. Barely there at all, but it was a smile for him. 

Yue knew exactly what Ash had seen the day they first met. 

Yue felt as his own heart tripped and stumbled towards its own inevitable demise. 

“ Yuuchan.” Eijis voice was firm. So warm. His eyes even worse. “ I want to know all about your friends.” A large hand reached out and Yue accepted it. Gracefully gliding into his seat, letting his jacket slip from its perch on his shoulders and onto the curved back of his chair. 

“ I didn’t expect you to have any.” 

The words cut. But his eyes hadn’t left Eijis and there was no malice behind them. A statement of fact. 

He removed his hand from Eijis , warm, palm. Filled his glass with the Champagne before them. A moment to collect himself before engaging. 

“ Obviously I lied. You were a disaster.” 

And did Eijis smile brighten? Or was it just the moon shifting from behind the clouds… 

“ I was worried about you.” 

Yue took a long sip of his drink. He needed to relax if he was going to get through whatever this was. His weak heart devilishly attempting to betray him with a nervous sweat. 

“ This tastes terrible.” He countered. 

Eiji chuckled a little, “ I’ll let you pick the next bottle, your treat.” 

And he didn’t mean to scoff, but there it was. 

“ You look terrible, of course. Doesn’t Sing let you go to the barber?” 

He was being nasty. Nasty like he had been in New York, losing control of the quiet malice that defined him here in Paris. Eiji didn’t seem to mind. Just gave Yues own long and glossy hair a hard look. 

“ Let me know which salon you use, do you think I’d look nice with one of your fancy styles?”

Yue sent him a glare before turning towards Eiji fully. Taking all of the man in. 

His heart was erratic. Eiji was a disaster and Yue couldn’t look away. Couldn’t stop the flush of want he was being encased with. 

“ You couldn’t afford it.” 

The smile reappeared, “ I suppose I could shave it all off then.” Hid hands reach up and run through the dark strands. Smooth, but curling at the tips. Tiny twists that reminded Yue of the flop that used to sit atop his head. 

His own hand twitching under the desire to reach out and touch it himself. 

He gripped his glass tighter. 

“ What is it you want Okumura.” 

Some sort of well deserved violence that would help them both move on. 

Eiji swirled his glass. 

“ We’ve known each other a long time Yue, we’re past formalities. You should call me Eiji.” 

“ Cricket.” Yue snapped. “ You’re loud and persistent and annoying and something only monsters could stand to eat.” 

Eiji leaned over the table, moving the bottle from Yues hand. He hadn’t realized he’d been picking at the label. He refilled his glass and Yue watched as Eiji took him in, 

“ Snakes like you love Crickets Yuuchan.” 

The gasp fell out of his mouth before he could stop it. Pulse thumping in his ears. Bright confusion shifting towards rage, as if he’d never shut himself off from that emotion at all. 

“ So you’ve come to Paris to what? Flirt with me? Make friends?” His temper was flaring, control long lost. 

“ I came to forgive you.”

 

——

 

Eiji demanded to talk about things he’d rather die than remember, and then forgave him. Absolutely forcing the forgiveness onto him.

Kept giving him special smiles. Small touches meant to settle, but did anything but. 

Yue fell into the situation and listened as Eiji took all the guilt he’d sat on and excused it as unfortunate youth. And then he left. 

Yue saw the brokenness then, in the pause before he returned to the Parisian streets. 

Sing explained it at the bar. That Eiji had woken up one night, desperate to know that Yut Lung was safe. Inconsolable in his worry.

Sing smiled fondly at the memory, “ He cried so much for you Yue. I wonder if you can imagine. He kept calling you a baby, he was so afraid you’d end up just like Ash. He’s still so afraid. He tried to send me back to you then. But he’s…” 

Sings voice trailed off, staring out into the dark streets. He stood and ruffled Yues hair. Taller now than he’d ever imagined possible. “ We’re leaving for Japan tomorrow but we’ll be back soon.” 

Yue nodded and watched the man leave. 

They weren’t children anymore. 

The ache in his chest assured him of that. 

 

——

 

 

——

 

Eiji didn’t turn to Paris.

His heart was buried in New York. 

It didn’t rest in his chest and yet Eiji still loved. Eiji still ached. He feared and he shook. 

Nauseous from the love. 

Those first months he’d been a monster. Demanding status updates sometimes hourly. Calling his family daily. Racking up terrible phone bills nobody could afford. Going into a panic anytime Sing left his side to attend to ‘family business’. 

They’d talked about sending him somewhere, some sort of grief rehab even. Neither he nor Sing could stand the idea of a forced separation. So they’d done in home therapy. 

And Eiji got better? Not much. A parody of better, if anything. But he could be alone for more than an hour. 

The first night he’d dreamed of Yut Lung had him vomiting again. 

There was a week of that before Eiji understood what he was feeling. 

He’d left that child in that situation. For months he’d thought of Yue as the devil but now? Eiji was painfully aware of the the boys situation. It took hours for Sing to finally console him. Weeks to convince him that they did not need to retrieve him from Paris and spirit him away to some sort of safe house. 

And Eiji knew it was Bull Shit. But he also doubted very seriously that Yue would ever want to receive kindness from him in any form. 

Knew it wasn’t his job to worry about the man who’d done his absolute best to destroy the life of his most precious person. 

But Eiji had known Ash’s heart. Had seen the desires and the secret wishes. 

Eijis heart shattered at the thought of Yut Lung alone.

When Ash had died, Eiji choked on the thought- but it was.. still real. 

When Ash had died... he hadn’t mourned alone. 

Sing would mourn Yue. 

They made plans to fly to Paris. 

 

——

 

 

——

 

Sing had explained that Eiji was affectionate. 

It had still stolen his breath the first time he found Eiji asleep in Sings arms. The peace on Eijis brow a shocking contrast against the man he’d learned to know. 

Something bitter and jealous stealing up his spine, worse when he saw the dried tear tracks and reddened cheeks. 

Eiji, so small tucked into Sing like that. 

“ It’s a bad day.” Sing stated as if that would mollify him. “ He’ll feel better when he sees you’re here.”

So he didn’t leave.

And Eiji had perked up. A slow smile, another just for him smile. Eiji had smiled and reached out to him, once more gently touching his hand.

“ You look well, Yuuchan.” He whispered, “ I’m glad you’re here.” 

“ I always look well Cricket. You could at least attempt to return the courtesy.” 

And Eiji had blushed then, rubbed at his face and tried to pull himself together. And how frustrating. Eiji, still trying to push back that grief as if it didn’t completely define him. As if anyone here wasn’t painfully aware of what pushed you to despair. 

It was easy to pull Eiji out of Sings arms. Into the bathroom. 

“ Wash your face and then wait for me.” He demanded. 

Glaring at a bemused Sing and stomping over to the kitchen. Yue grabbed a dish towel, some ice cubes and his bag before easing back to the bathroom. 

“ Here,” he snapped, pushing Eiji down onto the toilet seat and tilting his chin up so he’d have better access to his face. “ Hold these under your eyes for thirty seconds and then switch. It'll reduce the swelling.” Eijis hands met his as they transferred the towel covered ice cubes between fingers. 

Eijis eyes were dull, and Yue hated it. 

“ You’ll need to drink a metric ton of water; honestly Cricket your skins terrible. But use this too.” Yue pulled out some moisturizer. The one he kept for emergencies. Put the little pot on the counter. 

“ You’d think any respectable gay man would at least know how to moisturize.” 

Eiji laughed, but it was watery. Yue looked into the mirror and felt his spine clench at the emotions on Eijis face. 

“ Ash used to say the same thing.” His smile wobbled, “ but I didn't even know I was gay. I didn’t know anything before Ash.” 

It settled between them.  
It made Yues throat tighten. Burn. 

His voice was low as he took the impromptu ice pack from the shaking man. “ Well, it’s been years now so you don’t have an excuse anymore.” His fingers were soft as they rubbed some of the expensive lotion onto Eijis dry red cheeks. “ You’re just being negligent.” 

He watched as Eiji closed his eyes to the touch. His skin wasn’t really all that bad, now that he was touching it… 

The shaking stopped slowly, but Yue didn’t pull his hands away from the others face. It seemed Eiji was barely holding it together. He was afraid what might happen if he pulled back. 

They stayed like that. Long enough for Yue to bitterly wonder if someone else had done this for Eiji. Equal parts bitter and appeased at the thought of Eiji receiving such tenderness. 

Eijis hand was on his once more, “ Thank you Yue. I’ll take more care from now on.” 

“ Good.” 

 

 

He hadn’t meant to keep coming back. To demand that Eiji learned about proper skin care. To take him to his salon and get him a proper haircut. And Sing had out right laughed when they returned one afternoon, arms weighted with shopping bags. But Eiji had cuffed Sing on the head and told him to mind his own business in a way that had Yues heart fluttering.

Was he allowed this? 

He could see how it hurt Eiji. 

He could see the way Sing would look between the two of them. That furrow between his brow deeper than it's ever been. 

He knew what he was thinking. 

But he wasn’t Ash. 

He’d never be Ash. 

Eiji could never betray his own heart like that. 

But the way Eiji would hold him, a shaking mess, totally buried under the weight of his fears. The demands to be safe. The second guessing every time they returned to New York. 

He wasn’t sure why Eiji would put that on himself again and again. 

 

——

 

Yut Lung was wicked and bold. He was a fever. He was a secret between sisters. Easy to break, hard to hold. He was twenty two. He was alive. 

He’d spent every day of the last three years thinking about Cricket. 

The uncontrollable foolishness of his own, human, heart. 

Ash Lynx laughing at him from hell. Heaven? 

He’d stopped hating Ash years ago. 

He’d never really hated Ash at all. 

Eiji understood. 

They didn’t speak about Ash. Six years and still Sing wasn’t comfortable leaving Eiji on his own for more than a few hours at a time. Three years of Yue loving Eiji and he had to agree with Sing. 

He didn’t see him often. Maybe once or twice a year now that Eiji was more secure in his safety. He’d thought about being more honest about his situation. About how he wasn’t as out of the scene as he claimed to be. About how untrue it was to say he hadn’t had a gun pointed at him in years. 

Constantly dueling between the knowledge that the truth would bring Eiji to his side - but in turn reduce him to that easily shattered being from before. 

So he’d spend his time with Eiji reverently. Allowing the older man to join him at spas and on shopping trips. To photograph him. They’d sit on the couch for hours, Eiji playing with his hair, telling Yue stories of New York. Of Japan. He’d hold Yue close and bury his face into his neck as Yut Lung discusses his various adventures in Paris. They’d listen to music; legs tangled, bodies close. Yue falling into a desire for closeness he’d rejected for so long. 

He wondered if Eiji ever felt the way his heart raced. Eijis always calm and steady.

Eijis heart only raced for one person, but it was easier to bring him back now. A gentle, “ Come back Cricket.” And his eyes would refocus. His heart rate would slow. 

They’d spend a week or two like this, wrapped up in their own little world before Eiji would return to his work. Before that last day panic would set in and Eiji would recede into himself. They’d spend that night glued together in Yues giant bed. Eiji wrapped around him completely. Begging promises of safety and caution. Shivering pleas to leave Paris behind. 

Yue knew he was ruined. Eiji would leave him again and again and still… Yue was happy for it. 

Ash had been selfish with Eijis heart. He’d burnt it completely and bled it dry. He’d taken it so that no one could ever see it again. 

Yue was selfish too. More selfish than Ash had ever been.

But he would be patient with Eijis heart. 

He’d know if those eyes ever looked at him in the way he so desperately wished for. 

He knew what to look for. 

 

Yue let Paris surround him. Let the curved lines and cobblestone streets envelope his future. Soft touches from warm hands guide him slowly towards the hint of Dawn, not yet. But maybe soon. 

 

—-

 

Paris moonlit streets by the river, long night talks. Eiji so soft and delicate, draped with endless weary. 

Cold dead hands a memory still fresh. Flesh meets flesh but hearts still pump our blood through open wounds. 

Paris never offered us redemption.

 

—-


End file.
